


The Key

by tsiviaravina



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff without Plot, Romantic Fluff, Valentine's Day Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-18
Updated: 2019-01-18
Packaged: 2019-10-12 06:24:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17462282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tsiviaravina/pseuds/tsiviaravina
Summary: This is a bit of Valentine's Day Fluff that would not leave my brain until I wrote it down. It's a bit AU-ish—Dan has decided on divorce, but Chloe is, for the moment, still in her mother's house. And it is, of course, Valentine's Day.That's pretty much it in a nutshell. So here is my early Valentine's Day offering. Here's hoping it pleases.(Oddly short summary as well. First time for everything, I suppose.)





	The Key

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: I OWN NOTHING!!! Seriously, I don't own a damn thing. Just playing in the Lucifer (TV) sandbox for a bit. Not making any money. Suing me for copyright infringement would be a hilarious and futile effort for all parties involved.

If she saw one more shiny red cardboard heart or one more display of wilting red roses and browning baby's breath, she was going to puke.

She had managed to keep the decorations confined to Trixie's room and the front and back doors. She was enthusiastic about the holiday for Trixie's sake, but since she and Dan had decided to go for the Big "D", she had decided that Valentine's Day was officially the armpit of the year.

(Not that Dan had been all that romantic in the first place, but divorce added all the piquancy of the fragrance of rotten roses to the holiday.)

Part of her said, very loudly, that she didn't need any romantic gestures; she was intelligent, mature, and independent. She was her own woman and if she wanted flowers or chocolates, she could damn well buy them herself.

But another, much smaller, quieter part wondered why she never seemed to be the target of someone's truly romantic attentions.

(Dan never could remember that she liked tulips, not roses.)

So after admiring Trixie's Valentines from school, dinner, and a saccharine Hallmark Channel movie that Trixie had begged to watch, she tucked her daughter into bed, added one last log to the fire, and instead of working on the case files she had brought home, she poured herself a glass of wine, leafed through her wedding album, and stared morosely into the brightly jumping flames.

She never even heard Lucifer let himself into the house until she heard from behind her, "Well, you're not at the 'Miss Havisham' stage yet, m'dear, but you're heading there rather quickly at this rate."

She jumped about a foot, almost spilling a lot of cheap merlot down her front.

"Lucifer, what part of 'bullets hurt and make you bleed' did you forget this time? I have a gun; I could have _shot_ you! I still might," she grumbled.

"You haven't shot me since the first time. Besides, it's obvious you are in _dire_ need of an intervention," he said, seating himself across from her. He shot his cuffs, then looked at her. "Well, that's not the reception I was hoping for," he murmured when he saw a tear slip down his Detective's cheek and she sniffled. He pulled out his handkerchief and knelt in front of Chloe, gently wiping the few tears away. He tucked the handkerchief into her hand so she could take care of the sniffles on her own.

He took the wine from her. " _You_ don't need any more Two-Buck Chuck," he told her with a note of finality in his voice. She wiped away more tears. "Chloe, darling, what's wrong?"

"It's Valentine's Day," she blubbered. God, she was so embarrassed. And humiliated. She felt Lucifer gently take the wedding album from her lap.

"Ah. The divorce from Sir Douche," he sighed gustily, satisfied when he heard her let out a watery chuckle. "And today is all about unrealistic romantic expectations. Well, then. Go wash up. I'll put the kettle on and make some of your _appalling_ Earl Grey."

She went to the bathroom and washed her hands and face. When she came back into the kitchen, two perfectly prepared mugs of tea were on the counter. She smiled. Lucifer never forgot a thing about her, including how she took her tea.

He handed her a mug, grumbling about the absence of proper teacups, and they sat across from each other at the kitchen table.

"I'm just…I'm feeling sorry for myself, that's all," Chloe sighed. "Sometimes I look back and I wonder if I married Dan for all the wrong reasons. But then I think of Trixie, and how she's the best thing in my life and…" She rested her head in her hands. "You remembered, after a few months of working together, _exactly_ how I take my tea. Dan could never seem to remember, even after _years_ of marriage and a _child_ , that I _hate_ roses."

"Well of course—you prefer tulips. Red ones, I believe," Lucifer said easily. "I'd probably send you deep purple or black. You'd enjoy the contrast in color," he finished.

Chloe sighed deeply. "I just want…I think everyone wants someone who will think enough of them to remember their favorite flowers or how they take their tea. That's all."

"Darling, give me a _challenge!_ I also know you hate dark chocolate, have a craving for those fancy caramel apples during a certain time of the month, and you keep a laminated copy of Shakespeare's Twenty-Ninth Sonnet in your wallet—it's not that difficult to remember." He seemed a bit ruffled on her behalf. It was kind of sweet, she thought as she watched him sip his tea.

"Why are you here, anyway?" she asked, curious. "Don't you have some Valentine's Day debauchery going on at Lux?" she asked, raising an eyebrow at him when he looked at her.

"Oh yes, Detective," Lucifer said. "Red roses everywhere, hideous pink champagne, and scantily clad Cupids running everywhere. Simply _had_ to get away from it all." Chloe snickered at the picture his words painted.

"Much better," he said, smiling at her. "I did come here for an actual purpose," he continued, reaching inside his suitcoat. He pulled out two small boxes and nudged them across the table to her.

"Well, go on," he said, running a hand through his hair.

Chloe looked at him. He looked…and sounded…nervous.

She picked up the larger of the two boxes and untied the white ribbon from around the red box and opened it. She smiled when she saw six perfect milk chocolate truffles, each topped with a tiny red tulip. They came from a chocolatier near Lux that she could never afford on her salary. "Thank you, Lucifer. You really shouldn't have."

"I never _have_ to, darling; I _want_ to. Now, open your other present," he instructed.

Another red box with a white ribbon, but this one was a hinged jeweler's box. Her eyes snapped to his face again. "Lucifer…"

"Don't _scold_ me for getting you a bit of a bauble, Detective Decker," he said defensively.

She untied the ribbon and slowly opened the red velvet cover. She inhaled sharply and her eyes widened. "Lucifer…Lucifer…it's beautiful, but I can't take this—it's…it's…"

Lucifer rose from his chair and moved behind Chloe, brushing her hair to one side. "It's a Saint Valentine's Key. You give them away on St. Valentine's Day if you come from Padua, Italy. Or if you need a gift for someone…rather special…and an Italian jeweler owes you a favor."

He gently lifted the intricately filigreed key out of the box. "Is it…" she tried to ask.

"It is white gold. Sterling silver would tarnish and you would never dare wear it if I said it was platinum," Lucifer said fondly, untangling the chain and fastening it around Chloe's neck. He let his fingertips linger on the nape of her neck for an extra moment or two.

The length was perfect; the key rested just between her breasts where it fluttered with every beat of her heart.

She swallowed past the lump in her throat.

She got up, turned around, wrapped her arms around him, and held on.

"Thank you," she whispered, pressing her hand over his heart and tucking her head under his chin, the place that was becoming the safest place in her world.

His hand came up to hold hers. "You're welcome, darling," he whispered into her hair.

And from behind her bedroom door, one Trixie Espinoza peeked at her mother in Lucifer's arms and smiled brightly.

"Best Valentine's Day _ever_!" she whispered to herself before carefully closing the door, and, avoiding the creaky floorboard, crept back into bed.

_"For thy sweet love remembered such wealth brings_

_That then I scorn to change my state with kings."_

—Wm. Shakespeare, "Sonnet #29"

 

An image of the key is available [here](https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B000SMNKMK/ref=as_li_ss_tl?ie=UTF8&tag=bealifblo-20&linkCode=as2&camp=1789&creative=390957&creativeASIN=B000SMNKMK).


End file.
